


Daddy Figure

by sherryvalli



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: M/M, Other, father figure!whizzer brown, whizzer's a good dad okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 18:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13129743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherryvalli/pseuds/sherryvalli
Summary: Whizzer’d never imagined himself as a father. Ever.Which was why he was more than a little uncomfortable by the fact that he was alone, in his apartment, with an angst-y thirteen year old sitting on his couch right now.





	Daddy Figure

**Author's Note:**

> This is a late Secret Santa gift for @hispanicjackkelly on Tumblr! I'm so sorry I'm late but I hope this made up for it. I took your 'Whizzer being a father figure to Jason' prompt, by the way, since I didn't really know how to write a guardian angel au. Happy holidays.

 

Whizzer’d never imagined himself as a father. Ever.

Which was why he was more than a little uncomfortable by the fact that he was alone, in his apartment, with an angst-y thirteen year old sitting on his couch right now. 

He was not good with children - never was, and probably never will. This was made evident during a particularly memorable family gathering he'd attended back when he was still a _part_ of his family, and his cousin Lydia had abruptly handed him her eight-month-old. Whizzer had been so awkward and surprised that he almost dropped the child in the punch bowl.

It was safe to say that nobody really trusted him enough to hand him babies after that.

And he was okay with it, for the most part. He was a gay man, after all. It was just biologically impossible. There was no future of his imagining that included him and a baby any time soon.

But you'd think he'd be better at it now - he was in his mid-thirties, and hell, he'd seen the kid plenty of times before - _well_. Before it all went to shit, to put it simply (Marvin himself had opted to coin it as The Past, but Whizzer had wrinkled his nose in distaste at the lack of originality and Marvin had promptly tugged him by the collar then and there - Whizzer didn't really have it in him to complain after, so the term had more or less stuck with him).

But he could do this, Whizzer thought to himself as he wrung his hands nervously. The kid was almost thirteen, and his hate for Whizzer over tearing his family apart two years ago must've rescinded a _little_ , at the very least. _Oh, God, he hates Whizzer, doesn't he?_

Whizzer's anxiety heightened.

 _Although_ , the voice in his head reminded him loudly, _he did keep in touch with you over the years. He invited you as a guest to Trina and Mendel's wedding, remember?_

Despite him still having no idea how Jason had been able to mail the invitation to him, it had been fun to see Trina's look of fleeting rage and shock as he showed up in a crisp gray suit he had rented for the occasion. Mendel, albeit at first a little reluctant, welcomed him with open arms. Trina took a bit more time to adjust, but nothing could’ve really dampened her mood that day - _not even seeing her ex-husband's ex-lover on her_ wedding day _, apparently_ \- because he soon found himself dragged into a family picture session.

He was squished on Trina's right with Jason posed in between Mendel and Trina, a hesitant yet genuine smile blooming on his face. (There was a notably large, Marvin-sized hole on Mendel's left, but nobody said anything about it, and Whizzer knew better than to ask.)

And that was the last they'd seen of each other in two years. Until he suddenly bumped into Jason in the park one fateful day in April, and everything came rushing back.

Jason had taken one look at him and his eyes had gone impossibly wide. Whizzer, who was holding a book he'd been attempting to read for the past eight months and a pen tucked behind his ear, was even more shocked. For someone who usually had a way with words, he came up with none.

 _Fuck_ , he thought. _He looks just like Marvin._

However, the two of them were spared as an all-too-familiar voice shouted agitatedly, "Jason!"

Whizzer's throat ran dry. His grip on the novel slackened. Jason, on the other hand, quickly reached up to grab the pen from behind Whizzer's ear and scrawled a number on Whizzer's palm. He turned back to Whizzer, eyes blazing. "Call me,"

Just as he was about to turn away from him, Whizzer called out numbly, "Jason - "

"Just do it," He said with an air of finality, before sprinting away. Whizzer watched him go, heart heavy.

He stood there dumbly for a few more moments, but just as he saw the edge of what looked like a painfully familiar red hoodie, turned the opposite direction and ran.

It took him four days to call the number. And when he did, he psyched himself eight times before actually pressing the call button.

The response was immediate. Whizzer didn't know what he'd do if it took longer, or worse, if he didn't even pick up.

"Hello?" said an unmistakably young voice.

"Jason," said Whizzer hoarsely. He cleared his throat hastily, embarrassed. "It - It's me,"

"Oh," said Jason simply. His tone wasn't one of disappointment, or shock. It was more thoughtful, like he didn't really expect Whizzer to call him in the first place.

"Well?" said Whizzer impatiently after a few moments. "Why'd you ask me to call you?"

"Well - " Jason sounded shy now, and it was surprisingly refreshing, since for as long as he'd known, Jason had never been anything but bold and impulsive. Not unlike his own father. Whizzer swallowed the lump in his throat. _Get a grip, Brown_ , he reminded himself sternly. _It's been two fucking years_.

"I just - I'm having a Little League baseball game this Saturday," said Jason quietly.

Whizzer raised his brows at this. He knew Jason played baseball, but he knew he wasn't particularly -  _gifted_  at it. And considering Jason was the best one in the team, it was truly baffling why his team was even _allowed_ to participate. But Whizzer wasn't about to say all that, so he just hummed thoughtfully.

"And... and I, um. I was wondering, if - if you wanted to -  _come,"_ Jason finished finally. "Because, like - I know you like baseball and all. So, yeah,"

Whizzer blinked. And blinked again. Then blinked some more.

"Whizzer?" asked Jason hesitantly at Whizzer's stunned silence. "Are you still there?"

"Huh?" Whizzer mumbled numbly.

"You know what - this was dumb - " said Jason hastily.

"Oh, no! _No_! I mean - I'd love to come," assured Whizzer despite the fact that his stomach was now by his feet. "It's just..." Whizzer hesitated. "Is he - I mean,"

"My dad won't be there," assured Jason.

Somehow, that should have relieved Whizzer, but he just felt worse. He didn't say any of that, though. "Oh. Okay, yeah. Um, sure, I'll go,"

"Great!" said Jason cheerfully. Whizzer's lips twitched.

Somewhere in the more illogical parts of Whizzer's brain, he couldn't fully accept Jason's assurance that Marvin wouldn't be there. It was irrational, and unhealthy, and although by the time the big day came, Whizzer had managed to convince himself that _no, Marvin would not be there, stop worrying_ , that didn't explain why Whizzer was in some of his form-fitting clothes and in a particularly expensive pair of sunglasses. Nope, not at all.

And then he saw Marvin there, and he couldn't even curse out Jason in his mind, because he definitely saw this coming. _The little shit had planned this_.

But Whizzer was grateful for him anyway, because Marvin was good now. He was better. And he was Whizzer's.

That all didn't quell any of Whizzer's worries now, though, because there were still three hours until Marvin got off his shift and where the hell were the lesbians when you needed them?

Jason stayed over on weekends - this was something Whizzer knew for a fact. But Jason was usually dropped off after dinner, at night, when Marvin was there to entertain him and Whizzer would just look over them in fondness. What Whizzer didn't know was how to handle it when Jason was here seven hours before he usually came over, and when there would be no Marvin there to be their middle man.

Whizzer had been hiding himself in the kitchen ever since he'd opened the door to invite the disgruntled and headphone-wearing Jewish boy into his apartment twenty minutes prior. He was shamelessly pacing around the kitchen tiles when he heard Jason call out from the living room, "Whizzer?"

"Uh, yeah?" Whizzer called out, startled.

"Can I get some water?"

"Yeah, sure," said Whizzer. Okay, water. He could do water. He himself drank water. He could give Jason some water. Easy.

He walked over to the cabinet, and hesitated. Should he give Jason the glass they gave for guests, or should he give him one of their mugs? There were plastic cups in there, too, maybe he should - but Jason could handle a glass of water without shattering it, what was he thinking? Whizzer breathed heavily. What did Marvin always give him?

"Fuck it," he hissed, and stormed out into the living room. Jason was still on his spot on the couch, bobbing his head to whatever he was listening to on his Walkman. He looked up when Whizzer approached him, raising an eyebrow when he saw that Whizzer was water-less.

"Have you eaten anything?" asked Whizzer.

Jason seemed confused, but shook his head no. Whizzer inhaled deeply. "That settles it. Grab your coat. We're going out,"

"What - "

"Coat, Jason, quickly,"

 

 _It wasn't really proper nutrition for a growing boy_ , mused Whizzer as he watched Jason scarf down his plate of waffles, _but at least he was putting food in the boy._

He took a bite into his own waffle. They'd been quiet for the duration of their entire drive there and almost the entire time they were in the waffle house, save for when Whizzer asked him what he wanted. It wasn't a very uncomfortable silence, but it was awkward nonetheless.

Whizzer had one waffle left, and looked up to face Jason who was slurping his milkshake. "Why were you at the house so early?"

Jason startled at the sudden question directed at him, and he struggled to swallow his drink before responding. He shrugged. "They were fighting,"

Whizzer's brows furrowed. "Trina and Mendel?" It was incredibly unusual for them to be arguing, let alone be fighting.

"No, dad and mom,"

"Marvin's at _Trina's_ house?" Whizzer's brows reached his hairline then.

Jason only nodded. "He took a half-day," He informed him.

Whizzer pursed his lips. "He didn't say anything about taking a half-day today," He frowned. He already knew the answer to his unasked question, though: if he told Whizzer that he'd be going to Trina and Mendel's house to talk (or rather, fight) more about the bar mitzvah, he wouldn't even have let Marvin leave the house this morning. Whizzer decided to ask anyway. "What were they fighting about?"

"What else?" Jason sighed miserably.

Whizzer hesitated briefly before saying, "Do you even want a bar mitzvah, Jason?"

"No," said Jason immediately, the answer seemingly already at the tip of his tongue. But it seemed far too fast and rehearsed to be what he really felt.

Whizzer tried again. "No, I mean, do you  _want_  a bar mitzvah? Like, say if every decision for it was yours to make - the food, the music, the guest list -" He looked meaningfully at Jason then, and he flushed a deep scarlet, "would you want it then?"

Jason looked as though he was readily about to answer, but perhaps it was the look on Whizzer's face, or the fact that this was someone who probably had his fair share of feeling left out when it came to the tight-knit family, and so he paused. “Yeah, I want to,” He said finally.

Despite the cheery nature of the statement, Jason sounded morose.

“And that’s a bad thing why?”

Jason looked at Whizzer blankly. “I’m sorry – have you _met_ my parents? Didn’t you date my dad for, I don’t know, almost three years?”

“Those two years don’t count,” Whizzer was quick to correct him, “but that’s a fair point. Have you talked to either of them about it?”

Jason laughed humorlessly, stabbing at his waffle dejectedly. “Operating word being _try_. Mendel tried to talk to me about it once – he said that everyone hates their parents at my age, and that it’s okay to be feeling this way and it’ll get better once I’m older. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought I just came out or something,”

Whizzer almost doubled over in laughter. “Wow – “ He snickered, and was relieved he didn’t take a bite of his waffle then, or he would’ve choked in the aftermath. “But – yeah, Mendel’s right on that front. God knows I hated mine,”

Jason looked at him curiously. “Did you have a bar mitzvah?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Whizzer, calmed down now, shoving a bite of waffle into his mouth, “the whole nine, too. My mom was a devout Catholic and my dad was a raging Jew, so we had both of everything. Holidays were the fucking worst – let me tell you. Christmas _and_ Hanukkah – count me the fuck out.”

Jason laughed at that, and Whizzer felt his heart soar. “How was your bar mitzvah, then?”

“Oh, it was awful,” said Whizzer, scrunching up his nose at the memory. “Just fucking awful. The catering came two hours late, the rabbi said another kid’s name instead of mine, and the guest list was 90% made up of middle-aged white men from my dad’s office. I’d never hated them as much as I did that day so I didn’t speak to the both of them for a whole week,”

“Wow, that sounds like it was the worst,” said Jason sympathetically, although his eyes were twinkling. He looked at Whizzer differently now, like he didn’t think he had so much in common with him before.

“Yeah, it was,” he said, before shrugging, “but that’s my parents for you. Shitty childhoods are the worst, but at least you get a story out of it,”

Jason cracked a small grin at that as he looked down at his now-empty plate. Whizzer’s heart ached.

“Don’t know why but you look like Marvin,” he said suddenly.

When before, he knew that Jason would’ve flinched and blanched at the compliment – Whizzer’d seen it firsthand, too – but now, Jason only looked up and smiled wider, obviously flattered. “I get that a lot,”

“I’m sure you do,” He grinned. Whizzer jammed his last piece of waffle on his fork and shoved it in his mouth. “Look – just have the bar mitzvah. I’m sure that Trina, at the very least, will let you invite fifteen people to the party, if not choose the food, too. They won’t make it too insufferable,” He assured the young boy, before pausing. “Actually, I don’t know that. For all I know, they could be hiring a Liberace impersonator as we speak. But I do know that since you’re their only child and they’ve been having a pretty shitty few years, this would mean a lot to them. They’re gonna be really happy, and you get to invite hot girls. It’s a win-win,”

Jason glared at Whizzer playfully, but was silent. Whizzer could see every emotion flit across his face as he weighed the options and reconsidered everything Whizzer had just said.

“Okay,” He said after a while.

“Okay?” asked Whizzer, eyebrow raised.

Jason nodded his head, determined and adamant. He looked even more like Marvin here, and Whizzer beamed.

“Okay,” He mused.

They spent the next few hours bickering about the guest list, with Whizzer insisting a detailed description of everyone in Jason’s class and everyone Jason wanted to invite. When Jason had shyly admitted to his crush on Heather Levin, Whizzer’d gasped loudly and leaned forward conspiratorially as though sharing a state secret. They talked, and argued, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. They shared horror stories about Marvin; Whizzer’s decidedly more explicit than Jason’s, causing the younger boy to groan and cover his face in his hands in embarrassment. All traces of awkwardness from earlier seemed to have vanished completely by then, and Whizzer had never felt so comfortable talking to the kid than he did right then.

Whizzer’s eyes strayed towards the clock at the opposite wall then, and was taken aback when the clock glared 6:25. They were supposed to be back an hour ago.

Whizzer went up to the cashier to pay for their meal, and as he was handed his change, the young girl had peered over at Jason briefly before smiling warmly at Whizzer. “Your kid’s great,”

Whizzer’s throat went dry. “I – uh, thanks,”

He headed back towards Jason, feeling lightheaded. He looked over at Whizzer, puzzled. Whizzer shook his head in response. “Come on, get your coat; we’re leaving.”

As Jason turned to walk out the door later, he paused abruptly. Whizzer, who was walking behind him, bumped into the younger boy unceremoniously. “Jason?”

He looked up at Whizzer. “Thank you, Whizzer,” He said then, earnest.

Whizzer knew this wasn’t just for the waffles. But he didn’t let himself think so far into that lest he burst into tears in the middle of the restaurant. So he just beamed at Jason, hoping his eyes could tell him everything he couldn’t. “No problem, kiddo,”

Jason really walked out then, leaving Whizzer standing there, still dumbstruck over the whole thing. He looked over at Jason. Jason, who was bright, and funny, and too mischievous for his own good, and who looked a lot like a man Whizzer was letting himself fall in love with again.

Whizzer’d never imagined himself as a father. But looking at the kid then, he figured he couldn't be too bad.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for this fandom, and my first anything here on ao3, so I had a lot of trouble figuring out the ropes and such. Come find me on Tumblr at @sofeashabani - a huge thank you to @falsettossecretsnowmen, by the way, for hosting this whole event. You're the best.


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